Confessions: Changing Hair Stylists

Last week I decided that I had finally had enough of my long hair and was ready to chop it all off. Unfortunately every place that advertises "walk ins welcome" is a liar. The earliest appointment I could get was a week away and I took it. It was a new to me place since I decided I should try new things since I moved, plus it's only hair.

Well, last night was the night of my appointment and I hustled my way to the studio and arrived ten minutes early. There was no receptionists, but there were a lot of people and everyone looked busy. No one greeted me so I awkwardly took a seat in the chairs by the door assuming that was what I was supposed to do. About five minutes before my appointment my stylist, whom luckily I recognized from her picture on the website, walked up to me. She was on the phone but she stopped and pointed at me with her finger and then did a "come hither" kind of motion with her pointer finger. 

I sat down in the chair she directed me to and she stayed on the phone. I awkwardly sat there while she finished up her conversation which was clearing not work related. During this time she started playing with my hair which seemed weird and I kept thinking how this lady I've never met is dragging her fingers through my hair. Also, I couldn't help but fixate on the fact that she smelled like she just smoked a cigarette*. 

I always say that I am not a hugger, but really, I just don't like people touching me. So to have a complete stranger running her fingers through my hair drove me nuts, but I just sat there and stared at the clock knowing that this wouldn't take more than a half a hour. Finally she got off the phone and she went and stood right in front of me, about 3 steps back and just stared at me. She didn't say a word, she just stared. I introduced myself and waited for her to introduce herself but she just asked what I wanted done. I told her what I wanted and she just stood there. I asked if it was something she could do, or if she would have any problems with it and she shook her head.

She washed my hair and then directed me to her chair...with her finger of course. She didn't say anything until the hair cut was over when she commented that I had beautiful hair. She then asked if I wanted my hair dried. My usual stylist always dries my hair and styles it to make sure I'm happy with the final outcome. Obviously you can't tell what your hair looks like when it soaking wet, so I asked for it to be dried. As soon as I said that she said "oh...really...in this heat?" The salon was air conditioned and in jean and a t-shirt I was freezing so having my hair blow dried for 5 minutes would have been welcomed. She opted not to do it and blew my hair around for about 30 seconds before deeming it done.

I paid and walked out with wet hair. I still tipped because it's ingrained in my head that you should always tip for service. Maybe she assumed I was a college kid because I look young and would never come back and that's why she wrote me off as a potential client but I figure in a service industry you'd want people to come back to you over and over again. I had errands to run as it was my night off from biking and I wandered through the store with wet hair that eventually started to dry all crazy. I finally snapped this picture to send a friend before I went to bed of the final product.

I don't know about you, but I really like when I leave a salon with styled hair because usually getting a haircut is a treat for me. It's something I do twice a year or so and it just feels really nice to have great looking hair every once in a while.  Luckily this morning with some help from my straightener my hair looked a bit nicer that the out of control mess that was last night.

Obviously bathroom self portraits are the it thing in this post today. I'm also one of the few people left under the age of thirty without a SmartPhone, but that's for another post. I should also point out that my face is looking way better than it did a few weeks ago. [I feel like that statement should be hashtagged #humblebrag or something to make me a real blogger....especially since I'm doing bathroom selfies now. Oh gosh I just said selfies...I said it twice now...crap! Please send help.] I have to admit that I am so thankful it's mostly healed because after a few days of the crazy stares and double takes in public I was pretty much over it. 

Moral of the story: Just suck it up, fight traffic, and go to your usual stylist who actually wants to have your business.

*NYS has a no smoking rule which basically bans people from smoking in public places and a whole bunch of other rules and such that you can read about HERE. This regulation went into effect a long while ago and since no one I know smokes I'm not really exposed to it at all and I usually get thrown off when I smell it or just fixate on the fact that I smell something disgusting.